


I think to much...

by BeignetBenny



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M, pre-the things we left behind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 22:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2750195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeignetBenny/pseuds/BeignetBenny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To many things have been going on in Dean's head. The mark, his time as a demon, Sam...</p><p>He wasn't entirely sure which one scared him the most</p>
            </blockquote>





	I think to much...

Cases where they had to go to really seedy looking bars to scope out monsters usually only make Sam uncomfortable. But after this long, Dean just didn’t want to handle it anymore. Especially when every single person could be their monster. Or all of them could and it would be a nest.

He sighed to himself into his drink. The hunter hated vampires. Well, most of them. Lenore was pretty good, and Benny saved his life, but there were still the majority who you can just look at and get chills up your spine. So many comments talking about Dean’s soft features and pretty face. Or how he’s the perfect mixture of masculine and feminine. Were they supposed to be complements? Dean didn’t know. All he was thinking was that he should have agreed with Sam and let them go together. As a team.

It wasn’t something they have done in a while anyway.

Too many secrets were hanging in the air between them. Secrets about the mark, his time as a demon, everything. But no, he didn’t shut up his big “I can handle this myself” attitude and now he was here. The bar felt too familiar to what he used to do. Reminding him of too much of what he had to do when he ran low and he needed to care for Sam. If he didn’t, Dad would have been pissed. But, it wasn’t just that. He really did feel like he needed to, or else no one else was going to. Dean wasn’t even sure if those types of thoughts were drilled into his head once before or that he just picked that up himself.

“Don’t frown like that, sweetheart. Total turn off. C’mon, show that pretty little smile of yours.” The voice shook Dean from his thoughts, and caused him to grip tightly onto his glass.

Dean smirked in response to the man’s advances. The smile was natural, he wish he hadn’t done it. Another thing drilled into his head. By who? He didn’t know that either. Years of being the pretty face that could get information or a few bucks when necessary? Or was it a bitter smile that he had done just to get the man to _hopefully_ back off? Again, he didn’t know. Probably a mixture of both.

“You know, pushy guys like you are a huge turn off, too. But you didn’t see me complaining about it.” He said as he took another sip from his drink. His head was cloudy, but only in the slightest. He just assumed it was because he had already had more than a few while trying to scope out the thing that goes bump in the night.

“Shouldn’t get to stubborn,” The man said, getting a little to close to Dean for comfort.  “This will be a lot easier if you play nice.”

Dean hesitated with his answer, the stranger’s threats weren’t entirely menacing yet. But they did sound like he planned to follow through with them, and he’d rather not be around when he makes it obvious. He began to stand up out of his seat “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not in the mood. Maybe try a different time, or a different guy all together. Besides, I don’t swing that-” Dean fell back into his seat, everything hitting him at once. First, it was the dizziness and barely being able to stand. Then the fatigue, then he felt like he wasn’t even in his own body. It all felt like it had just happened in the second that he stood up, but when he actually did think of it, he had been feeling a little tired and dizzy before. But he just paired it up with the drinking. He might have been slurring as well, he didn’t know.

“You leaving isn’t really a choice, Dean.” The stranger – Dean began to see fangs sprout from the man’s gums – the _monster_ growled.

“How did you-?” Dean got out, before he felt hands on his body. Everything was blurring together even more now. He saw the man from behind the bar walk over to him as well. He was hoping it was to help get this guy off of him, but he soon felt the big hands from the bartender on him, teeth sprouting from his mouth as well.

If he was in a normal situation and wasn’t about to get drank and worse by these sons of bitches, he would have said something about how he pretty much just walked into a huge vamp orgy. Which wasn’t entirely a lie. He was basically in one, and he was their pretty little prop that they wouldn’t care what happened to.

He walked straight into a nest and now this was happening. And what made it worse wasn’t even all the hands over him, or the fangs sinking into all different parts of his body. No, it was the fact that Sam was almost here instead of him. Dean knew he could handle this. He knew he could. He’s had worse before, right?

* * *

 

Dean should have been back hours ago. 30 minutes at least. Sam paced the room, took a break to glance at his watch, and then began pacing again.

Something could have happened. Something must have happened. He couldn’t help but worry about his older brother. The elder Winchester had done the same to Sam for so many years, he might as well return the favor, right? But if returning the favor meant not being able to sleep and expecting the worst always, he wasn’t entirely sure if it was a cross he really wanted to bear.

But it was too late to say no to that. It was too late as soon as he told Dean that he could have handled finding dad without him. Which Dean replied with “Yeah, but I don’t want to.” Hell, it was probably too late sometime before that too.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the familiar sound of the Impala’s engine and looked out of the window.

Dean stepped out of that car and that same sigh of relief caught in his throat at the sight of his brother. The hunter was covered in blood, he had scratches, cuts, and fresh bruises all over his body, all topped off with his messy looking clothes. Sam ran out to meet him, looking him up and down as soon as his brother was in front of him.

“Not all of it is mine.” Dean said, in reference to the blood. Sam couldn’t help but notice the small shake and the thinness quality to his brother’s voice. Just those two small factors scared Sam shitless. Dean was hiding something. Something that it would be better off not hiding.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Obvious lie, Sam thought to himself, but knew better than to push the subject right after it happened. Yes, he wants to know what could have happened to Dean and he wants to be able to help him.  But if he has to work on Dean’s clock to make sure he doesn’t scare his brother away like a gazelle seeing a lion, then so be it.

“I need to take a shower.” Dean said before shoving Sam out of the way and into their motel room, kicking off his shoes, pulling off his jacket, and dropping his machete as soon as he entered the room.

Yeah, maybe waiting would be for the best.


End file.
